The Miranda Silver Saga
by SabineLaGrande
Summary: A rather random tale of what goes on in Ravenclaw and Slytherin without that meddling Potter. Abandoned.
1. The Sorting Hat

The Sorting Hat

Miranda Silver, Episode 1

_Or yet in wise old Ravenclaw,_

_If you've a ready mind,_

_Where those of wit and learning,_

_Will always find their kind...._

            Slowly, she closed the door to the dormitory. She sat down at the desk and opened her potions text. Unrolling an empty parchment scroll, she struggled to remember everything Snape had said- between looking daggers at Mitchell and making snide comments about the ineptitude of the entire class- about Invisibility Potions.

            "A two scroll essay by Monday," she seethed under her breath, "honestly! Who does he think he is?"

            Miranda usually enjoyed Potions, unlike most students at Hogwarts. She relished the feeling of carefully creating a draught that could bring life- or death. It was so much more scientific than a lot of wand-waving- not that she didn't like Charms. Quite the opposite was true. She loved little Professor Flitwick and the general sense of mirth he seemed to bring to the classroom-

            Miranda realized that she was stalling again. She couldn't understand why she couldn't focus on Potions lately. She was usually top in her class. She had even gotten a seldom, reluctant smile from Snape and usually escaped his verbal barbs.

            She realized that she was stalling yet another time. Really, she mustn't let her mind wander like this anymore. She started on the essay.

            Miranda was two-thirds of a scroll into the essay when one of her roommates, Anna, walked in. The 12 Ravenclaw 5th years were housed in triangular rooms. One dorm went from a point; the next went in. Miranda, Anna, and Isis's dorm went out- Anna's bed was on the left, Isis's against the back wall, and Miranda's on the right. Anna bounded in with her usual energy.

            "Working on that paper for Snape?" she asked incredulously. "It's Thursday! Come on, you can work on it later. We'll miss dinner if you don't hurry up!"

            "Alright, alright," she said, putting away the scroll. She picked up her bag and followed Anna out the door.

aaaa

            Miranda never truly got over the sight of the Great Hall at Hogwarts. Even though she had grown up in a large wizard's manor house, she had never seen its equal. She had seen many things in these past 4 years- Christmas feasts, Halloween celebrations, and other not so pleasant occurrences. She would never forget what happened in her first week here.

aaaa

            The ride from London on the Hogwarts Express was exciting. Miranda had never been on a train before. Her parents usually went everywhere in their chauffeured car to avoid muggles. She remembered quite clearly the vivid scenery and the treats from the cart.

            Her memory of the Sorting was especially clear. Her mother and father always told her about the Sorting Hat and their own Sortings, always taking care to tell her that she would make a wonderful Slytherin. Her heart was racing when she first saw the hall. She heard a girl behind her say that the ceiling was bewitched to look like the sky outside. Charm or not, the sight was amazing. After the Sorting Hat sang its venerable song, the students went up one by one. Her anxiety increased when she saw her old friend, Draco, go into Slytherin.

            Her stomach dropped when she heard Professor McGonagall finally announce, "Silver, Miranda!" Timidly, she sat down on the stool and placed the hat on her head.

            A tiny voice whispered in her ear. "Slytherin? Why would you want to be there? No, no, that's not the right house at all. Mother and Daddy were wrong, dear; you're a natural born RAVENCLAW!"

            Her heart sank. Draco was shocked. She was shocked. Dazed, she stumbled over to the cheering Ravenclaw table. The rest of the Sorting was a blur. Someone whispered from down the table that Harry Potter, that boy everyone seemed to be talking about, went to Gryffindor.

            "Big surprise," she thought, but she said nothing. Her mind was still racing. Ravenclaw? What would her parents say?

            Her anxieties quickly vanished with the beginning of the feast. She had even more fun in the Ravenclaw common room meeting the rest of her class. That night, she met Isis and Anna, who soon became her best friends at Hogwarts. Later, lying in bed with her new pet cat, Bastet, she thought it was the happiest day of her life.

            She owled her parents first thing the next morning to tell them how much fun she was having and that she was a Ravenclaw. She didn't think about it again until the next week when the mail came. Her family owl, Apollo, flew in bearing a strange red envelope.

            "Oh no, hit the deck," groaned Penelope, a Prefect. She stuck her fingers in her ears. Other students hid under the table and buried their heads in their bags. Not knowing what the fuss was, she opened it.

            "MIRANDA ARTEMIS SILVER!" 

            An unearthly screaming filled the Hall. Her usually calm father's voice, magnified a thousand times, screamed violently at her. She stuck her fingers in her ears, but to no avail. Andrew M. Silver made himself heard.

            "NEVER IN ALL MY LIFE- MY OWN DAUGHTER TURNED HER BACK ON THE FAMILY- SLYTHERIN NOT GOOD ENOUGH FOR HER- BETRAYED ME- YOU MARCH DOWN TO DUMBLEDORE'S OFFICE RIGHT NOW AND TRANFER THIS INSTANT, D'YOU HEAR ME?- WE'LL SEE IF I LET YOU COME HOME FOR CHRISTMAS! I MIGHT AS WELL LEAVE YOU UP THERE!- NEVER IN ALL MY DAYS- THE SHOCK WILL KILL YOUR GRANDFATHER- MIGHT AS WELL BRING YOU HOME!!"

            After an eternity, the howler burned to nothing. There was an eerie silence. Even the Slytherins looked genuinely sorry for her. Face burning, she tried to figure out why he was so angry. She had no clue what he would do if she wasn't in Slytherin. The thought stuck her suddenly- she had never asked. On the verge of crying, she picked up her books and slunk off to Dumbledore's office. After she left, a light mist of talking finally rose up from the tables.

            She was lead up the stairs to Dumbledore's office, by the keeper of the grounds, Hagrid, who had found her trembling in the hall looking for the headmaster. 

            "Foun' this one lookin' for you, 'eadmaster. Says she wants to transfer to Slytherin, though I don't see why," the giant said, patting her on the shoulder. 

            "Thank you, Hagrid," the old wizard said. "I'll talk to her now."

            "Alright," he replied, leaving. 

            "I heard all about the Howler this morning, Miss Silver." So that's what those things were called. "So, you want to transfer to Slytherin?"

            "All my family is in Slytherin... I think there's a mistake, I shouldn't be in Ravenclaw, I should be in Slytherin, too," she stammered.

            He chuckled. "So, that's what this is all about? Do you want to be in Slytherin?" he asked.

            She hadn't thought about it. He read her expression like he had read so many other students'. "I'll tell you what. I'll give you a few days to think about it; then if you still want to be in Slytherin, I'll talk to Severus about transferring you," he said soothingly. He led her back to class.

aaaa

            Miranda never went back to Dumbledore's office. She didn't go home for Christmas, but she went back for Easter to an incredible remorseful father. He begged her forgiveness, and even gave her a silver quill holder as a peace offering. All these scenes ran rapid-fire through her mind every time she walked into the Great Hall.

            She sat down across from Isis at the Ravenclaw table.

            "What's for dinner?" she asked. As if in response, the plates filled with the usual delicious fare. The house tables buzzed with customary dinner talk- what a stupid git some professor was, how unbearable potions was today, who was caught in the common room in the middle of the night and with whom. Adding to the excitement was the fact that the Ravenclaw-Gryffindor quidditch match was to be played on Saturday, the first match of the Cup. Miranda was the only female beater at Hogwarts. 

            Greg, the captain and other beater, sat down next to her. 

            "Bad news, Randa," he sighed. "Gryffindor got special permission to have the quidditch field to themselves tonight." 

"But the match is in two days!" she groaned.

"I know, I know," he said, with a wild glint in his eye. "But I got special permission for tomorrow afternoon." 

"Alright! That'll show them," she laughed. It was quite alright to book the quidditch field at any other time, but the week before a match was rude. "Really, it's not like the field isn't big enough for two teams! They're just so obsessed with secrecy, as if we could never possibly figure out their incredibly complex and secret moves," she said, rolling her eyes.

They finished dinner, glared at the Gryffindor team for a moment, and went up to the Ravenclaw common room. It was a massive room, decorated like an old library, with high ceilings and an enormous fireplace. It went up to the top of the tower, flanked on either side by the dorms. Staircases wound from the floor all the way up to the 2nd year dorms on the top. The common room wasn't as formal as the Slytherins', as noisy as the Gryffindors', and certainly not as bright as the Hufflepuffs'. It fit the Ravenclaws perfectly.

She sat down at a table and continued writing her potions essay. Not long after she sat down, Greg, who was also her potions class, joined her.

"How much have you got?" he asked. "I've barely got a third a scroll, and I'm out of ideas."

"I'm not much better off," she answered, pushing a few strands of black hair behind her ear. "I've finished the first scroll, but my best idea for the second one is to draw a cauldron and call it an art project."

"I'm not sure Snape's an art fan," he laughed. "You could write and tell him how wonderful he is and how absolutely smashing it would be to be in Slytherin, and how much you love that hairdo."

"I'd be better off writing about how his talents are wasted and how he would be a perfect Dark Arts teacher," she joked.

Greg chuckled. "I know he could teach Dark Arts, but what about defense against them?" he queried.

"I bet his lessons would consist of his attacking the class and us defending ourselves," she replied.

They struggled on through the essay together. Suddenly, hours later, she looked at her watch. 

"Do you know what time it is! We better get to bed," she said anxiously.

"Wouldn't want the perfect Prefect to be a bad example," he said sarcastically. They gathered their books and climbed the three flights to the fifth year dorms.

aaaa

Miranda woke up in a cold sweat. She looked at the watch on her bedside table. It was 2:30 in the morning. She'd had the dream again. She struggled to push it out of her mind. Finally, she fell asleep.


	2. Quidditch

Quidditch

Miranda Silver, Episode 2

_Qui vive la pieta quando e ben morta._

_(Here pity lives when it is well dead.) _–Dante's Inferno

            Friday morning, the owl post arrived as usual. Apollo brought Miranda a letter from her mother, telling all about how well Cassidy was doing in school, how she had made a parchment fly across the room, and all the usual things. Miranda's younger sister Cassidy was enrolled in a wizard primary school, and would come to Hogwarts when Miranda entered her 7th year. She stuck it in her bag, and pulled out her letter home. She tied it to Apollo's leg; he promptly drank all her pumpkin juice and flew off. 

            "Stupid bird," she muttered. She got up and walked out to the yard. The Ravenclaws had double transfiguration with the Hufflepuffs, but Miranda wanted a little time alone before then. Breakfast wouldn't be over for another twenty minutes, giving her ample time. She strolled down the cloister, thinking to herself. 

She was shaken from her reverie when she heard a deep, rather nervous and definitely fake cough beside her. She turned her head.

"Hello," he said shyly. She recognized him from herbology. He was a tall Slytherin 5th year.

"Hi," she said, still appraising him silently. "Alistair, isn't it?"

"Yeah. And you're Miranda?" he asked, trying to conceal his nervousness. "What brings you out here?"

"Just wanted some time alone before transfiguration," she replied. He looked a bit worried and embarrassed at having interrupted her, so she quickly changed the subject. "What did you think about those Wailing Willows Tuesday?"

"Oh, they were awful," he said emphatically. "I think my ears are still ringing."

"What?" she asked, pretending to be deaf. He started laughing and relaxed slightly.

"Do you play quidditch?" he asked.

"Oh, yeah, I love it. I play beater for Ravenclaw," she answered. "Are you coming to the match tomorrow?"

"Of course," he said. "I hope you beat Gryffindor. They're so unbearable when they win! When they won the Cup last year, it was like they won the World Series or something."

She stopped. "What's the World Series?"

He looked rather surprised. "It's the American baseball championship," he responded. "My parents are both Muggles, and my dad loves it. He used to live in America."

"What's baseball?" she asked. He eagerly explained all the rules. It sounded to her like quidditch with more beaters.

"Sounds interesting," she commented when he was through. The bell rang summoning them to class. He walked her to the stairs in the main hall.

"Good luck tomorrow," he said.

"Thanks. Hope I see you soon," she said with a smile. He smiled back, and headed down to the dungeons.

"Oooh!" 

She heard Greg, Anna, and Isis's familiar voices behind her. She walked up the stairs, pretending not to hear them. 

"Good luck tomorrow," Isis mocked, in a hideous baritone.

"I hope I see you soon, my darling," said Greg, in a squealing falsetto. 

"Name one of your children after me, will you?" Anna piped in.

Padma Patil joined in with mock indignation. "Shame, shame! Talking to a Slytherin boy like that! What's a matter, Ravenclaw not good enough for you?"

"I swear, I am going to kill all of you when we get to transfiguration," Miranda said without turning around. 

"Turn us into something instead, we might all get extra credit," said Mitchell Nott at the top of the stairs. Miranda marched into Professor McGonagall's room, sat down, and got out her wand and quill. Greg made little kissing faces at her, but straightened up when an orange tabby entered the room. It walked briskly up to the desk and changed into an older woman with glasses in exactly the same shape as the cat's markings.

"Good morning class. Take out your texts and turn to page 145. Today we will be working on changing scrolls into journals. Your journal should have at least 25 pages for full credit, anyone who has more than 50 will receive bonus points, and those with more than 75 will receive 5 points for his or her house. Points will be taken off if your journal already has things written in it. After you show me your journal and the number of pages it has, I want you to write a two page essay about transfiguring paper products which will be due next class meeting."

She proceeded to give a short series of incredibly complicated notes on the transfiguration of written materials and to announce that there would be a test in two weeks.

"You will have to turn your textbook into a scroll which lists your name, house, and date of birth, which I will take up, grade, and turn back into a textbook, so that no one loses one," she stated briskly. Then she passed out empty scrolls for the class to work on.

Miranda managed to get 80 pages in her journal, but it kept rolling up. She seemed to be the farthest along- Anna's scroll had turned into a notebook, Mitchell's only had 10 pages, and one of the Hufflepuff's had disappeared entirely. Greg turned his on purpose to a banner than read "Miranda loves Alistair", and then snuck a new scroll out of his bag. Miranda had the last laugh, however, when his journal only had 5 pages. At the end of the class, Professor McGonagall gave Miranda full and extra credit, and awarded 5 points to Ravenclaw, even though the back cover still had a definite bend to it. The class packed up their things and went down to lunch. Miranda ate quickly and ran up to her dorm. She put on her blue and bronze quidditch robes, picked up the new Firebolt that her father had bought her over the summer, and went down to the quidditch pitch. She had a quick spin around the goal posts and a lap around the field before the rest of the team showed up. 

They started off with a few chaser and keeper drills while the seeker and beaters discussed strategies.

"Gryffindor relies on their seeker more than anyone else," explained Greg. "The only ways to stop them are to confuse Potter or to run up the score. Cho, I want you to try and throw Potter off. Try flying close or pretending to spot the Snitch. Randa, you'll target their chasers while I protect ours. Try not to hurt them too bad, just keep them away from the goals. Got it?" he asked them. Miranda reflected inwardly on this stunning explanation of the obvious but merely nodded her acquiescence. Greg let the Snitch out and counted to ten; Cho mounted her broom and zoomed off after it. They mounted their brooms and flew up to join the chasers.

"All right then, we'll play a practice half match. I'll go down and let out the Bludgers," said Greg to the rest of the team. They all nodded in agreement. He zoomed down and unchained the unruly black orbs. They shot straight up at Miranda, who knocked them both spinning off course with her heavy beater's club. 

They played until Cho caught the shimmering Snitch 5 times. Miranda and Greg easily caught and restrained the now tired bludgers. 

"Great practice. Everybody put a hand in now, come on," Greg said when they were all on the ground. "On three, one- two- three-" 

"EAGLES!" roared the team. 

"Everybody go and have a shower, a nice supper, and a good night's sleep," said Greg. "And Randa, don't let me catch you runnin' off to the Slytherin common room tonight," he said with a wink.

"Yeah, yeah, keep on, I might accidentally slip and hit you with a bludger tomorrow," she replied deviously. The team laughed and parted company. 

aaaa

"None shall pass," the Knight said imperiously as Miranda approached.

"Yeah, yeah, I know Henry," she replied.

"How does the eve find ye, m'lady?" Henry asked solicitously.

"Quite well, thank you," she said with a curtsey. "Cloak and dagger."

"Right you are," he said, stepping aside. She walked through the portal to the common room. Isis was finishing her potions essay. 

"How long have we got until dinner?" she asked.

"An hour or so," Isis replied. "Why, planning to sneak off and visit Alistair?"

"I only talked to him one time!" she said indignantly. "Why is everyone making such a big deal out of it?"

"Just a bit of fun, Randa. We're your friends. It's our job to embarrass you," she said with a smile.

Miranda shook her head and walked up to her dorm. She took all her books from her bag and tossed in her school robe and a towel. She went back down the stairs, past Henry, who wished her a very pleasant evening, and walked to the 5th floor. She stood between a landscape of southern France and a painting of Rowena Ravenclaw, who nodded to her, and pressed her hand against the wall.

"Lemony clean," she said, and round hole opened in the wall. She stepped into the blue and green tiled girls' Prefect bathroom. A bronze eagle roosted on one wall; while the snake on the opposite wall was sound asleep, tongue flipping lazily in and out of its mouth. She filled the big bathtub with hot water and mounds of tiny purple lavender-scented bubbles. She took off her quidditch robe and got in. 

After a few minutes of lazily soaking and thinking, a silvery white ghost appeared.

"Hello, Miranda," the Grey Lady said cheerfully.

"Hello, Maria," she responded calmly.

"Having a nice bath?" she asked politely.

"Oh yes, it's very nice. It's the best reason to be a Prefect," she said, laughing.

The Grey Lady smiled. "Well, I promised Henry I'd go and teach him to waltz, so I'd better be off."

"Why does Henry want to waltz?" she asked, confused.

"I have no idea; he probably just wants someone to pay him some attention," she responded. "Good luck tomorrow."

"Thank you," she replied as the Grey Lady went back through the wall. After a few more minutes, she picked up her towel and got out. She put her school robe on, and put her towel over her shoulders. She drained the water from the tub and stood in front of the mirror. She pulled her Self Plaiting Hair Ribbon out of her bag and tied it around her long hair, which obediently twisted itself into a perfect braid. She put everything back in her bag and walked back to the Ravenclaw common room, where Henry and the Grey Lady were indeed waltzing. He was in such high spirits that he let Miranda in without the password.

She hung up her quidditch robe and towel and went back down to the common room, where Anna and Terry were playing wizard's chess. After Terry put her in check for the 5th time of the afternoon, they went down to dinner.

They went down to the Great Hall and took their seats. Food appeared as it always did on the golden plates. 

"Yum, steak, my favorite," said Terry. Halfway through dinner, Feral Shada, a Slytherin prefect, approached her.

"Prefects' meeting after dinner tomorrow," she said lazily. "History of Magic classroom, seven o'clock."

"All right, I'll be there," Miranda responded. She turned to go.

"Oh, yeah, Silver- best of luck with the match... and Alistair," she said evilly.

"News certainly travels fast around here," she said after Feral returned to the Slytherin table. She cast her eyes over the Slytherin table. Seeing Alistair, she smiled. He smiled back, and she immediately saw his friends, including Draco, looking at her. He turned red as they started in on him.

aaaa

      Miranda awoke fully rested from a deep and dreamless sleep. As there was no point in coming back, she pulled on her quidditch robe, braided her hair, grabbed her bag and books, and walked down to the common room. She was hard at work on an arithmancy assignment when the rest of the house walked in from breakfast.

            Jennifer, a 3rd year girl, shared her table. Miranda helped her with a particularly tricky potions assignment. She finished her arithmancy and her own potions essay, and wrote her report for transfiguration. She helped a completely confused first year boy turn a quill into a pencil- the trouble seemed to be that he didn't know what a pencil looked like- and assisted a 2nd year in studying for a History of Magic test.

            After this completely boring but very fulfilling few hours, she left the common room. Just as she passed by the entrance to the Slytherin common room, Alistair emerged.

            "Hi!" she said with a smile.

            They walked, exploring the school at random and talking. They eventually ended up in the Great Hall, just in time for lunch. They said goodbye and went to their tables.

            Miranda sat down between Greg and Isis. "Shut up," she said, bending over her soup bowl.

aaaa

            The weather was perfect for quidditch. There was a slight breeze, and barely a cloud in the sky. After a quick pep talk, the Ravenclaw team walked out on to the pitch. The captains shook hands, Madam Hooch blew her whistle, and they were off. Miranda could see Isis and Anna occasionally flashing the "Miranda Loves Alistair" sign, but she wasn't paying any attention. After some particularly devastating bludger hits on both sides and some excellent work by the keepers, the score stood 100 to 90, Gryffindor. Out of nowhere, she saw a glint of gold beside her ear. She made a split second decision, and sped off after it.

            "CHO!" she shouted over the din of the crowd. She followed the Snitch until the seeker reached her. Then, somehow, with incredible precision, she hit the Snitch with her beater's club. Spiraling, temporarily confused, the Snitch flew right into Cho's open hands.

            The crowd erupted in cheers. They had done it. Ravenclaw beat Gryffindor. Five blue and bronze figures surrounded her. They flew, en masse, back down. She could see the Gryffindor captain arguing with Madam Hooch about how Snitch interference was against the rules, but she waved him off. Miranda could tell she was just as excited.

            At dinner, the Ravenclaw and Slytherin tables burst into applause as the team entered. Students she didn't even know were patting her on the back and complementing her moves. The Gryffindor table was uncharacteristically silent, and as usual, the Hufflepuffs sided with them. Alistair met her on the way to the prefects' meeting and congratulated her with a furtive kiss on the cheek, which made her nearly as happy as winning the match did.

            She entered the History of Magic classroom and took a seat. Professor Dumbledore greeted them, congratulated the Ravenclaw prefects, and gave a short speech about their responsibilities, duties, and not hogging the bathrooms. Then each house head gave their prefects a few words of advice.

            Professor Flitwick stood up on a box. "If Henry gives you trouble, just be polite to him. It's quite lonely being a suit of armor, you know."

            Professor McGonagall took her turn. "Leniency may make friends, but it doesn't make life any easier."

            Professor Sprout took the floor with her usual energy. "Remember to help the other students. It can be hard at Hogwarts away from your family."

            Professor Snape finally had his say. "Rule breakers were meant to be punished. Be ruthless."

            Miranda practically sprinted out of the room and back to the Ravenclaw common room. "Cloak and dagger!" she breathlessly said to Henry, who stepped aside, congratulating her.

            A raucous party was in full swing. There were all kinds of sweets, food snuck in from the house elves, games of Exploding Snap, and people everywhere. Someone had hung the "Miranda Loves Alistair" sign over the fireplace under a gigantic "Eagles for the Cup" banner. The celebration went on until midnight, when Miranda forced everyone up stairs. In her room, Miranda dressed for bed, wrote a letter to her parents, and crawled into bed. As she drew the curtains and snuggled in next to Bastet, she thought things couldn't get any better. 

aaaa

      She woke up with a start. She had a new dream, a warning dream. Her mind was made up. She was going to stop it.

            Whatever it was.

            She fell immediately back to sleep.


	3. Going Home

Going Home

Miranda Silver, Episode 3

_Qui cherché trouve. _–French proverb

            Time had a way of passing quickly at Hogwarts. Before Miranda stopped to think twice about it, a month had passed. It was now the third week of October. Ravenclaw had easily defeated Hufflepuff, entire potions classes were nearly blown up, and the first Hogsmeade weekend had come and gone. It was, Miranda remembered dreamily, on that first visit, over hot Butterbeer at the Three Broomsticks, that Alistair had finally asked her to be his girlfriend.       

            Despite all these happy occurrences, Miranda awoke in the middle of the night a week before Halloween. She reached for her wand, quill, and journal.

            "Lumos," she muttered, then put her wand between her teeth and looked for her ink. She found a half empty bottle and set it on the nightstand. Bastet roused and purred sleepily before settling down next to her. 

_            In the first dream, _she wrote,_ I'm back at the Sorting. I sit on the stool and put the Sorting Hat on. Instead of saying anything, it sucks me through a black hole. I land in a huge dungeon, and there's a giant basilisk in front of me. Just as it turns its head toward me, I wake up._

She stopped, struggling. The second one... it was too hard, so unclear... There was a pretty woman Miranda had never known, and a flash of green light... A man who reminded her strangely of Mitchell... Someone standing over her, reciting spells she had never heard, then the whispered word, "Obliviate."

            She had never told anyone about the dreams- not her parents, not Anna, not Greg, not Alistair, and not Isis. She didn't know what they would say. The ones she had tonight weren't the only ones either; there was the one from after the Gryffindor match, not so much a dream as a terrifying impulse, like a siren in her mind.

            Miranda suddenly realized how tired she was and dropped into a deep sleep.

aaaa

            More time slipped by. School got busier, which wasn't all bad, because Miranda didn't dream as much. The Halloween feast passed in all its splendor. Alistair and Miranda's relationship grew. Autumn changed into winter, and in the blink of an eye, she was packing for Christmas break. Anna, Isis, Alistair, and she were leaving; Greg stayed behind. When asked, he muttered something about his aunt coming in from Germany and changed the subject.

            She boarded the Hogwarts Express that day. Bypassing the seats reserved for the prefects, they found an empty compartment and loaded their luggage. Isis and Anna soon left to mill about the train with the other students. She and Alistair remained behind, watching the scenery pass by. She laid her head on his shoulder as they talked about vacation. Her parents had invited his family over for dinner on Boxing Day. He was quite eager for the chance to see a wizard family's home. They sat in silence for a few minutes watching the landscape. Slowly, he leaned his head in close to her. She closed her eyes, and- the door opened.

            In bounded Isis and Anna, with their usual good-natured energy and complete lack of tact.

            "Don't you people ever knock?" asked Alistair.

            "Of course not," replied Anna. "What's the fun in that?"

            They unceremoniously sent Alistair away with clothes and money on the pretext of needing to change. As soon as he was safely out, Isis started giggling.

            "We caught you!" she said in a singsong voice.

            "No, you didn't! If you would have given us 15 more seconds, you could have caught us doing something, and a good time would have been had by all!" she retorted.

            They all laughed. Anna and Isis changed into jeans, but Miranda hardly ever wore Muggle clothes. She changed instead into a flowing robe of rich scarlet velvet. They let an incensed Alistair back in with food, and enjoyed a completely nutrition free lunch.

            After they had finished, Anna had an idea. "Let's open Christmas presents," she suggested.

            "Why not? We've already got everything here," Isis added. Miranda opened her bag and pulled out her presents: a quill and a bottle of scented ink for Isis, who gave her a book on Egyptian magic; a necklace for Anna, who gave her a scarf in the Ravenclaw colors; and a model of the galaxy for Alistair, who presented her with a beautiful snowy white owlet, at whom Bastet looked with mixed curiosity and disgust. She brightened up some after Anna and Isis gave her a new blue and bronze collar, and then the proud feline proceeded to strut threateningly around the compartment.

            They exited the train as usual at Platform 9¾. After finding a trolley, she and Alistair went nonchalantly through the barrier to find their parents, who all looked thoroughly awkward. After giving directions to Alistair's father, who looked rather shocked at seeing her still in her robe, she said goodbye with a hug and followed her parents out of the station. When she got to the car, Cassidy flung herself around Miranda's waist. She spent the drive home recounting every little aspect of Hogwarts for her little sister.

aaaa

            It was three in the morning, and Miranda couldn't sleep. She walked quietly through the halls of her ancestral mansion, conversing occasionally with a picture or two, though most were asleep. She finally ambled to the third floor and approached a bronze bust, which was snoring softly. She cleared her throat, and it startled awake.

            "Dona nobis pacem," she stated politely, and the bust, yawning, opened a portal in the wall. She stepped through into the musty attic. 

            As a child, she had always loved the attic. It was her favorite place to roam. She could wander endlessly through all the relics entombed there. She walked over to the large stack of rugs in the corner and surveyed her domain. There was a dressmaker's dummy, boxes of old robes, two empty halves of a dragon's egg, a few spare cauldrons, and various other odds and ends. She thought sleepily of all the times she had spent in the attic.

She stood up. Not much had changed since she was there last. She walked over towards an old armoire. Suddenly, her foot slipped. She found that she had stepped through a false board. She crouched down and examined the damage. The hole was full of what appeared to be books. She picked one up cautiously. It was a photo album. She brushed off the dust and opened it. Most of the pictures inside were asleep, just like the portraits. 

Most of the pictures featured a boy who Miranda took to be her father. There were countless pictures of him: with friends; in his school robes; boarding the Hogwarts Express; holding his O.W.L certificate proudly; playing quidditch. After flipping through it, she put it aside. 

The next one, even dustier, held pictures of Miranda's father also, but this time with a girl and boy who looked about his age. They were laughing and talking, and waved merrily at Miranda. She couldn't put her finger on the girl. It wasn't her mother; there were pictures of her, when she was Jennifer Parkinson. She looked almost like Miranda. She didn't have Miranda's muscular form or long hair, but she had the same wide smile and dark eyes. There were pictures of her playing quidditch too- she was a seeker for Ravenclaw. The boy looked familiar too. He looked just like Draco Malfoy. She surmised that he was Lucius, Draco's father and her father's friend, but she still couldn't place the girl.

The next photo album was even more perplexing. There were pictures of graduation from Hogwarts in 1972 and a dance afterwards: her father and mother; the girl and another boy she didn't know; Lucius and Narcissa, Draco's' mother. She flipped through more pictures.

The last one was completely different. It was a wedding photo album. She opened the front cover and nearly fainted from shock. It was the woman from her dream- and the man who looked like Mitchell. She touched the shining silver letters in disbelief. The legend ran:

Sofia Silver and Gabriel Nott March 31, 1973 

            They were happy and smiling, obviously deeply in love. But who was she? Miranda racked her brain. She had no relatives named Sofia. Nott- that was Mitchell's last name. Was it Mitchell's uncle? She turned the pages slowly, in disbelief. There they all were. All of it had come together, apparently, but she had been left out. Who was Sofia?

            There was one more thing left under the false board- a loose picture. It was Sofia and Gabriel again- but with a baby boy. She tucked the picture into her robes and carefully replaced the books and board.

      Looking once again in the attic, something caught her eye. It was a groove running down one wall between two tapestries. Curious, she slid her finger down it. It opened at her touch. She stepped inside cautiously. It was a small chamber. There was a blue and silver quidditch robe hanging in the corner on a nail. It looked as if the inhabitant had never left. It was obviously someone's hiding place. There were pillows and blankets arranged on the floor and a stack of books in the corner. Miranda recognized a few of the titles- A Standard Book of Spells, Hogwarts, a History, and A Beginner's Guide to Transfiguration. There was a crude carving on the wall, the inscription "Sofia loves Gabriel." It seemed so oddly funny and ironic that Miranda had to laugh.


	4. Boxing Day

Boxing Day

Miranda Silver, Episode 4

_Ignorance is bliss. _-Anonymous

            Miranda crept back to her room just before dawn. She tried to sleep, but her mind was racing. She pulled out a quill and her journal and tried to make sense of what she had discovered. 

            The truth was that she had more questions now than answers. She figured that the little girl with her father must be Sophia- but who was Sophia? She didn't have any aunts on her father's side. Her father and Lucius must know whom she was- then why was she never mentioned? Maybe Sophia had done something to offend the family. Maybe she was a supporter of Voldemort- that was a joke. Everybody knew Lucius Malfoy was the biggest Death Eater of them all, and her father still spoke to him. 

She had nothing but a hunch. She scribbled down a quick note. Miranda crept over and awakened the owl Alistair had given her. He hooted groggily. "Sorry, Thoth. Can you take this to Mitchell for me? Oh, come on, don't ignore me like that. It's just 5 minutes down the road!" The tiny owl sleepily nibbled her finger, took the letter, and flew off.

She went to bed, eagerly awaiting the return post. 

aaaa

            Miranda walked sleepily into breakfast. She slipped into her chair across the table from Cassidy.

            "G'morning. Thank you, Hopfrog," she said as the ecstatic house elf brought her a glass of orange juice. She gulped down a plate of scrambled eggs and sausages. Her sister was incredibly excited. Miranda had promised her that they would go on the field behind the house and practice quidditch. They couldn't practice with real balls, but they could always fly around and have fun.

            Apollo flew in nonchalantly after breakfast, followed closely by Thoth. The latter landed beside her juice glass and gave her hand a nip. She opened the note and read the reply.

            _Randa-_

_                        My mother's maiden name was Anna Malfoy. She's Lucius Malfoy's sister. What for?_

_                                                                                    Mitch_

            So much for her hunch. "Just asking about an essay for potions," she said. She stuffed the note in her pocket. "Come on, Cassidy, let's go," she said, standing.

aaaa

      A few days later, on Christmas morning, Cassidy woke the entire household with joyful shouting. Miranda got a new silk robe, a book on great animagi in history, and various other things from her parents. They celebrated the holiday with a game of quidditch, wizard's crackers, and copious amounts of eggnog. Late in the afternoon, Miranda decided the time was right.

            "Dad, who's Sophia?" She knew she had hit her mark when her father choked on his eggnog.

            "What... how..." he stammered while being patted on the back by her mother.

            "I just found this book in the attic, and it said Sofia Silver in the cover... I just wondered who she was," she lied.

            "She was your great aunt," her mother said unconvincingly.

            "Oh, ok," Miranda said innocently. She then left the room. She walked down the hall for a few paces and flattened herself against the wall.

            "One... two... three... four... five... six... seven... eight... nine... ten," she counted slowly under her breath. As if on cue, she heard crying from the other room. She gasped when she realized that it was her father. 

            She could hear snippets of conversation. "God, Jennifer... I loved her, I really did... why did he have to take her away from me... If it wasn't for Lucius... and Mitchell never..." he breathed between sobs. 

            "That was 15 years ago, Drew. You've got to let it go," her mother said soothingly.

            "I know... I know," said her father, with a deep sigh. "It's just so hard... why didn't the Memory Charm work?"

            "I don't know. She must have broken it herself, but I don't know how," her mother whispered. She heard her father push the chair back and stand. She slunk down the hall out of sight, and raced up the stairs. 

She bolted the door behind her and threw herself on the bed. She reached down under the bed for her bag. Feeling around, she found her charms book. She hurriedly found the chapter on Memory Charms.

_Memory Charms_, she read, _are quite commonly used, though occasionally dangerous. The most common use is to erase the memories of Muggles who accidentally witness magic. Powerful or specially trained wizards can break Memory Charms, but the process can occasionally cause permanent injury or death. Current studies show that Memory Charms may lose potency over time and should be renewed biannually. A classic study by the late Alfred Binns shows when wizards are "obliviated", as the effects are also known, at an early age, they can unconsciously break the Charm. Researchers estimate that 1/3 of wizards who are admitted to magical mental hospitals are merely suffering from remanifestations of obliviated information. The incantation for this Charm is "OBLIVIATE" /ob LIV e ate/. Not recommended for young wizards, except for pedagogical purposes._

Miranda lay down and tried to work out what she knew so far. The man and woman in the dream were definitely Sophia and Gabriel. The end was her Memory Charm. But what about the green light? What about that spell she had never heard?

Sophia must not be related to her after all. Silver was a common wizarding name. She had even met a girl from Beauxbatons named Meredith D'Argent. Whoever Sophia was, her father was in love with her. Something had happened just before they left Hogwarts, and her father met her mother, and Sophia met Gabriel. Sophia and Gabriel had a son, who had to have been Mitchell; then- there was something wrong with her theory. If her father was still in love with Sophia, why would he marry her mother? If Sophia and Gabriel got divorced, why didn't she just marry her father? Who carved "Sophia Loves Gabriel" on the wall in the attic? Where was Sophia now? Not even Mitchell, her son, knew who she was.

She wracked her brain for a new scenario. If Sophia was related to Andrew Silver, she must have met Gabriel at Hogwarts and married him just after they graduated. They had a son a few years later and then- she disappeared from the face of the planet. Maybe she was a follower of the Dark Lord and had to go into hiding. That seemed the most likely solution, until she remembered her father's words. Who "took her away"? How was Lucius involved? 

She had nothing but more questions. She decided to let it wait until after Boxing Day. Maybe she'd think of something else.

aaaa

            Miranda sat anxiously in the front room for Alistair's arrival. Her parents had dispatched Hopfrog to greet his family. She only hoped that his parents wouldn't be too alarmed. She heard the oaken front doors swing open. A few seconds later, her father entered with Alistair and his extremely confused parents. 

            "Hello, Mr. and Mrs. Jones, how nice to see you!" her mother said, entering from the kitchens. "Do come in and have a drink." She led the Joneses to the dining room. As soon as her father closed the door, Miranda threw her arms around Alistair's neck.

            "I missed you so much!" she cried. "I've got so much to tell you-" She was cut off when their parents reappeared. Everyone sat down. After a long, strained silence, Alistair's father burst into questions.

            "When we came up the driveway, all we saw was an old shack, though Alistair swears he saw a mansion. Then this little green thing ran up to the car," he said, exasperated, pointing at Hopfrog. "It keeps calling me Muggle!"

            Miranda, with some difficulty, stifled a giggle. "Oh, of course, you saw a shack," her mother tried to explain. "You're muggles- that just means you're not wizards. Alistair could see the house, because he's a wizard. You see, it's just a simple muggle repelling charm. And that is Hopfrog, our house elf."

            Alistair's father was somewhat calmed by this explanation, if not more confused. His mother leaned forward. "You'll have to excuse my husband. He's a little bit easily excited. I've been the one helping Alistair with... wizard things. Charles just isn't used to it yet." 

            "Of course we understand," said Jennifer sweetly. 

            Before things could get any more awkward, Hopfrog entered and announced dinner. Everyone retired to the dining room.

aaaa

            Dinner passed without event. Afterwards, Miranda and Alistair took a walk alone around the gardens, which were illuminated by charmed balls of fire. A gentle snow fell around them. She explained how her parents had used wizard space to create a 15-acre estate on one acre of land. He thought it sounded like a tax evasion plot.

            They found their way to a secluded bench in the garden. She pulled her thick velvet cloak closely around herself. "Are you cold?" Alistair asked concernedly as he put his arm around her shoulders. 

            "It's nothing," she replied. "I'll be fine." He smiled. He softly put his hand behind her head and leaned in close to her face-

            Thoth landed on her leg. "Every time we're alone," Miranda laughed. He was carrying a message from her mother, telling them to come back inside. She put the letter in her pocket and put her gloved hands on Alistair's face. "Listen carefully. Tonight, around midnight, get up and come to my room. If anyone sees you, tell them you thought you heard a scream. They'll think you've heard the family ghost and tell you go to back to bed. I have something very important to show you."

            Alistair kissed her softly. "Of course, anything for you," he whispered. They walked, hand in hand, back to the house.

aaaa

      Miranda feigned sleep for a few hours. Around 11:30, she got out of bed and dressed. She gathered everything: the photo albums she had found, her notebook, and the picture. She waited nervously for Alistair. At precisely midnight, there was a knock on the door. "Come in," she whispered. Alistair crept in. 

            "One of the paintings accosted me... but I don't speak German..." he said, confusedly.

            "Don't mind Brunhilda. She was a gift," she said, smiling. She was comforted having him there, and it somewhat eased her mind. She sat him down on the bed, and told him everything she knew, in detail. 

            After she was finished, he sat thinking for a few minutes. Finally, he spoke.

            "We have to find Sofia... we have to talk to Mitchell, maybe he knows something!" he ejaculated.

            "How can we do that? What if something horrible happened to her? What if Mitchell doesn't know?" she pleaded.

            He crossed to her desk and got a piece of paper. "I'm going to owl Mitchell."

            "No, don't!" she half-shouted. He ignored her and began writing.

            She produced her wand from a fold in her robe. She held it steady, but shut her eyes against it. Her mouth fumbled around the word. "Obliviate!" she murmured.

            Alistair stopped dead and looked around. "What time is it... and what am I doing in here?" he asked, puzzled.

            "You were sleepwalking again, and you ended up in here," she said innocently. "Come on, I'll take you back to your room."

            He smiled a broad, trusting smile as she led him out of her room and down the corridor.


	5. The End of Miranda Silver

"Say goodbye to all of this-" "Goodbye all of this!" "-and hello to oblivion." "Hi Oblivion, how's the wife and kids!" -Riff Raff/AP lines, The Rocky Horror Show  
  
I don't know how many of you have finished reading Order of the Phoenix yet. I have, and let me tell you, it's fabulous. If you haven't read it yet, do yourself a favor: leave the computer (it'll be there when you get back, I swear) and go read it. That having been said, this is to those of you who've finished reading it and have also read my stories. As you can pretty well tell, the 5th book destroyed my story. In my now more glaring discrepancies, Davies is the captain of Ravenclaw, my character is (obviously) not a prefect, the Nott boy's name is Theodore, etc, etc, ad nauseum. Plus, one of my main themes, the idea that Death Eaters are normal people who have simply been decieved and can, in fact, have redeeming qualities, is, in my opinion, contradicted directly by OotP. To tell you the truth, I was getting tired of writing my fic. It became like pulling teeth towards the end. Now, looking back on it, it's horribly written and way beneath my skills, especially all the scenes between Miranda and Alistair, which are utter tripe. Actually, I've never been good at short fiction. I prefer poetry, essays, and scripts. I probably won't be posting anything else here, unless I take a wild hair and start writing Lord of the Rings stories, which is doubtful at best. So to recap: 1) Order of the Phoenix is brilliant but 2) it shot my storyline straight to hell but that's ok because 3) I was sick of it anyway and 4) I suck at fanfic. Thank you for your time.  
  
Nefer 


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